The next Morning I saw a punishment a degree less shocking, though I think the Prisoner's fate was little better than those of the day before. He was seated on a Scaffold in the same place for Public View, there to remain for six hours and then to be imprisoned in irons for 18 years, a Term (as he is 41) I think he will not survive.
What with the immediate effects of the Siege and events that followed, the Town has suffered so much in its Buildings and inhabitants, that I think it will never recover. The Manufactories of silk are just beginning to shoot up by slow degrees. Formerly they afforded employment to 40,000 men, now not above half that number can be found, and they cannot earn so much. Were I a Lyonese I should wish to plant the plains of Buttereaux with cypress-trees and close them in with rails. The Place had been a scene of too much horror to remain open for Public amusement. The fine Hôpital de la Charité, against which the besiegers directed their heaviest cannon in spite of the Black ensign, which it is customary to hoist over buildings of that nature during a Siege, is much damaged, though scarcely so much as I should have expected. The Romantic Castle of the Pierre Suisse is no longer to be found, it was[46] destroyed early in the troubles together with most of the Roman Antiquities round Lyons. I yesterday dined with two more Englishmen at the Table d'hôte; they were from the South; one, from his conversation a Navy officer, had been absent seven years, and had been in the Garrison of Porte Ferrajo in the Isle of Elba, the other an Egyptian Hero. There is also a Colonel from the same place whose name I know not.
I heard it was an easy thing to be introduced to the Pope,[5] if letters are to be had for our Minister, whose name is Fagan, or something like it. Now, as I may if I can get an opportunity when at Geneva to pay a visit to Rome and Florence previous to passing the Pyrenees, I should like a letter to this Mr. Fagan, if one can be got. As Buonaparte's Pope is not, I believe, so particular as the Hero himself with regard to introductions, I may perhaps be presented to him. I look forward with inexpressible pleasure to my arrival at Geneva, to find myself amongst old friends and to meet with, I hope, an immense collection of letters.
The Vineyards promise to be very abundant; of course we tasted some of the best when in Burgundy and Champagne. What a country that is! The corn to the East of Paris is not so promising as that in Normandy. The frosts which we felt in May have extended even more to the South than to this Town. The apple-trees of Normandy have suffered most, and the vines in[47] the Northern parts of France have also been damaged.... I shall go from Geneva to Genoa, and there hold a council of war.
Geneva.
...Between Lyons and Geneva we supped with the Passengers of a Vetturino. Two of these were Officers in the French Service, one of them a Swiss, the other a Frenchman. The conversation soon fell upon Politics, in which I did not choose to join, but was sufficiently entertained in hearing the Discourse. Both agreed in abominating the present state of Affairs. The Swiss hated the Consul, because he destroyed his Country, the other because he was too like a King. Both were Philosophers, and each declared himself to be a Moralist. The Frenchman was by far the most vehement of the two, and the Swiss seemed to take much pleasure in leading him on. His philosophy seemed to be drawn from a source equally pure with his Morality; assuming for his Motto his first and favourite Maxim, "que tous les hommes sont égaux par les lois de la Nature," &c., he thought himself justified in wishing Buonaparte (I was going to say) at the Devil (but I soon found out that the existence of that Gentleman was a matter of great doubt with the Philosopher) for daring to call himself the Head of the French Republic. His hatred of Power was only equalled by his aversion to the English, whom he seemed to abhor from the bottom of his heart, so much so, that[48] when I attempted to defend the First Consul, he dashed out with a Torrent of abuse, and ended by saying, "Et enfin c'est lui qui a fait la paix avec l'Angleterre."
I was for some time in doubt what part of the Revolution he preferred, but by defending Robespierre, he soon gave me an Idea of his Love of Liberty, Morality, Equality, and so forth. I was sorry he retired so soon after Supper, as I never was more entertained in my life in so short a time as with this little Fellow, as singular in his Figure and Dress as in his Manner, and he contrived to be always eating as well as talking.
Edward Stanley to his brother J, T. Stanley.
Argonauta, off Hyères,
Sept. 29, 1802.
My Dear Brother,—Before I left Geneva I firmly intended writing to you, but as I left it unexpectedly and sooner than I intended I had not time, but this, and all my adventures till I left it, I hope you have already heard, as I wrote two letters, one to my Father, the other to my Mother before I quitted Geneva. You will no doubt be Surprised, and perhaps envy my present situation. Where do you think I am? Why, truly, writing on a cot between two 24-pounders in a Spanish 84. You will wonder, I am sure, at seeing the date of this letter, and perhaps wish to know by what good fortune I found a berth in a Spanish man-of-war,[49] an Event which I little expected when I wrote last. I shall begin my story from Geneva, and you shall hear my adventures to the present moment. We left Geneva in a Vetturino for Turin, a Journey which took up 8 days longer than it naturally should have done, but our Coachman was taken ill, & we were on his account obliged to travel slowly. But I was not impatient, as you will know the Scenery is beautiful; we crossed Mount Cenis, which, after St. Bernard's, cannot be called a difficult pass. At Turin we stayed 3 days. It is now a melancholy Town, without commerce, & decreasing daily in population. The celebrated Jourdan[6] is the ruler of the place, & with his wife lives in the King's Palace. From Turin we went to Genoa, passing through Country not equal in Scenery, but infinitely more interesting than that between Geneva & Turin, every step almost having been the scene of battle, and every Town the Object of a siege. But the most interesting spot of all was the plain of Marengo, near Alessandria. As we travelled in the Diligence I had not so good an opportunity of viewing it as I should have had in a Vetturino, but we stopped a short time to see the monument which is raised to commemorate the victory; it [50]is erected near 2 remarkable spots, one where Desaix[7] fell, the other the House from which Buonaparte wrote an account of the event to the Directory.